The Dark Lord Sauron Babysits
by Frotu
Summary: As though being stripped of his power wasn't enough, Sauron's now asked to do something rather demeaning: be a good friend and watch the kids. However shall he manage?
1. A Family Affair

Ahahaa, it's been three years since I posted the first chapter of Rehab! … Aw, dang, it's after midnight. And I thought I was being so clever, too.

Anywho, this was supposed to be a one-shot, but I'm terribly talented at underestimating such things. Therefore, it will be a couple chapter, but just a few. Seriously. I have it all figured out. It was something I randomly thought of over the summer when I was wanting to write and actually lamenting the fact that there was no more Rehab to write. The characters are just so fun that it's impossible to let go. Haha… yeah. So tada!

* * *

It was much too loud.

There was not one noise that constituted the irritating amount of sound streaming through the air but a collection of a hundred little ones. Carts groaned over the smooth road on the other side of the houses; a group of musicians in the square up the street played a cheerful, sweet tune on a variety of instruments; cutlery and dishes clattered within the home; the two children – twins – giggled and squealed as they scampered around on some imaginary journey; and the handful of adults chattered with each other.

Sauron, however, had opted to pass on this opportunity to mingle, as immensely attractive as it clearly was. He snorted to himself, glancing over his shoulder at the lazy activity inside the house.

Considering the fact that he was currently sitting on the marble step leading from the commons into the small home, Sauron had to wonder why he had agreed to come. He had known even as he had accepted the invitation that he would end up either standing in some corner glaring half-heartedly at the assembly or wandering off by himself once the general atmosphere created by the eruhini grated his nerves too severely. The past decade or so had given him a fair amount of time to anticipate the outcomes of certain situations. So, while he was reluctantly willing to consent to a polite invite, he was not going to guarantee that he'd be good company.

In fact, Sauron was more likely to admit that he'd be a damper to any occasion. It was much closer to the truth in any case.

While he figured that he might have felt something vaguely like duty – not that he thought that such a word was fitting for what he considered to be a very frail shade of the idea – when making his decision to come that evening, he could not think of a legitimate reason for his presence. His current location of the back step only solidified what he was quickly deciding was a waste of his time. True, Sauron had time to spend amounting to ages, but ages did run out eventually.

Well, he had been there for roughly half an hour. He had grudgingly gone through the required pleasantries and had made his presence known. As far as Sauron reasoned, there was really no reason to stay. Although there really wasn't anything he needed to do, he was sure that he could find something much more interesting than simply staring into nothingness.

Sauron stood, brushing out the wrinkles on the front of his tunic, and decided that he would leave without advertising the fact. It was a habit that he had fallen into quite naturally. After all, he did not need to answer to anybody, and he did not need to report his every movement to an assembly of people who, for the most part, he did not know. Although Sauron was well aware of the fact that somebody would rebuke him for this later, he quite frankly didn't care. And try as they might, whoever ended up trying to chastise him would probably know enough about him to realize that their words would do nothing.

He was halfway to the alley leading to the main road when he was stopped.

"Giving up so quickly?"

Sauron furrowed his brow irritably and turned around. "There is no prize for me to win in putting up with it," he responded coolly.

Haldir grinned from where he was standing in the doorway. "Well, I'll have to keep it in mind that your attention can be bought for some sort of trinket."

"Trinket? Please," Sauron muttered, folding his arms. "My time is definitely worth more than that."

"I realize that you think so," Haldir acknowledged, still smiling in that mildly annoying way. "As such, I do appreciate that you agreed to come tonight, although you made a rather hasty retreat outside as soon as an opportunity arose."

"I did not _retreat_."

"Oh come now, I think we both know that you did." Sauron was about to cut in at this, but Haldir quickly continued. "Not that I would blame you for doing so," he said seriously, walking out to where Sauron was. "I understand why everybody must be present, but I'd rather not have to be around them all at once. It makes me feel like a child again, having to be on my best behavior. At least you can sneak off without the threat of consequences hanging over your head."

Sauron did have to concede that what Haldir said was probably true. "Everything has its price," he reasoned, deciding to be benevolent at the moment and let the comment about retreating pass. "You couldn't really expect that marrying Raudwen would come without strings."

"No, I knew that things would be different," Haldir agreed before smiling brightly. "But I can stand a few nuisances for—"

"Please don't," Sauron groaned, holding up his hand. "I can't stand it when you wax all sentimental like that. It's horribly cliché."

Haldir, instead of frowning, laughed. "I know, I know. Unfortunately, I suppose love is a recipe for cliché. There is nothing I can do about it."

"Then just refrain from speaking about it."

"If you feel so strongly, I suppose I could spare you," Haldir replied with mock thoughtfulness.

"How very magnanimous of you," Sauron drawled, allowing Haldir to fall in step with him as he changed his course and began to walk around the common. Having expected something of a response, Sauron was a bit surprised that Haldir was now silent.

Casting a sidelong glance at the elf, Sauron noted the rather torn and anxious expression that was now painted across Haldir's face. So it was a thoughtful silence. Unfortunately, this made Sauron a bit uncomfortable. It was now rare for Haldir to be pensive in such a manner. True, it seemed that Haldir was hardly ever pensive about anything, as far as Sauron could tell, but there was a difference between a casual introspection and some mental dilemma. Haldir was clearly suffering from the latter.

"What is on your mind, Haldir?" Sauron asked some minutes later when any flickerings of conversation had quickly extinguished themselves. As loath as he was to admit it, he could not help but worry a bit about the stupid elf. He had tried, of course, to become as immune to that reaction as he had been _before_, but too many of the threads connecting him to the life he had created as a dark lord had snapped over the last decade or so.

Haldir paused, kicking at the grass for a moment before gushing out his whole statement in one breath. "Raudwen-and-I-were-wondering-if-you-could-watch-the-children-for-a-night."

…Okay, so maybe he had come a long way from being a dark lord, but not _that_ far.

"Are you _mad_?" he asked incredulously, gaping at Haldir, who was now rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Nooo…" Haldir cringed. He avoided Sauron's stunned gaze and addressed the flowering bush next to the path. "Elhith and Lalaith have asked for the rest of my family to come visit, but it's the sort of visit that children would be a bit inappropriate at, if Raudwen read between the lines of the letter correctly."

Sauron assumed that this meant that the two were going to go through the engagement ceremony or ritual or whatever they called it. Although he had not seen the two as much since they left – Lalaith had gone with her parents to a home closer to the sea, and Elhith had quite fortuitously been able to regain his station of assisting at the docks in the same port where she lived – it was pretty clear what the outcome would eventually be.

Sauron frowned as he realized that all of Haldir's relatives were effectively out of the picture for caring for the children. That only left…

"While we thought about leaving them with Raudwen's family, they are all in Eressea, so it would be a considerable amount more for the kids to travel just for an overnight stay."

… Well, dang it.

"I really tried to think of somebody else… we considered the neighbors, but we have not been living here long enough to know what they are like," Haldir continued.

Sauron could not help but laugh at this. "And you actually know what I'm like, and you find that to be a reassuring reason to leave your small children with me?" He laughed again, still feeling stunned.

Haldir looked at him hopelessly, shaking his head. "You just pretend that you're still holding onto your evil ways if it makes you feel so special," he snipped. "But I'm perfectly well aware that you wouldn't hurt my kids."

There was a small pause, during which time Sauron sobered considerably. "Not consciously, at least…" he muttered. Stupid children.

"Listen, I know that I'm asking a lot."

"It's more than just a lot."

"A great deal?"

"I personally don't think it comes with a pronounceable amount," Sauron scoffed.

Sighing, Haldir nodded. "Alright, I get the idea. I'm well aware of the fact that there is nothing I can offer as compensation and, such being the case, I'm asking you to merely do this as an act of kindness. Since you still seem to be very good at deluding yourself after all these years, that idea no doubt irritates you."

"Hm," was all the reply Sauron gave, mostly on account of how much Haldir really had thought out everything. What he had said was pretty close to accurate.

"We'd only be gone for about a day. You could stay here so that you wouldn't have to worry about anything being forgotten, and the kids know where everything they could need is. You'd just have to make sure that they are fed and in bed at a decent time and don't randomly run off. I'm sure that in the scope of the operations you've overseen, these tasks should be easy."

Sauron sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It is one thing to command expendable armies and manipulate the minds of the powerful. In my limited experience, I'm guessing that caring for children is very different."

"You are, however, very good at learning new skills," he pointed out.

"Is this really a skill you want me to practice for the first time with your precious bundles of joy?" Sauron asked dryly.

"As frightening as it may be," Haldir responded, brushing some stray hairs from his face as he turned back towards the house, "I believe that you are perfectly capable of handling it."

Sauron was not quite sure what he should think of this. It was the sort of compliment that came with the strings of being considered a good individual. As his descent into darkness had been a gradual journey that came with many adjustments, coming out the other side was also a slow process… mostly because the light continued to have moments where it burned. Realigning himself was definitely an ongoing progression.

Although he did not reply, Sauron followed Haldir back to the house and went inside. Haldir understood this as a sign that Sauron was still considering the situation. Thankfully, many of the visitors who had been there were apparently leaving; there was a murmur of farewells drifting in from the entry hall.

Haldir went about clearing up the dishes from the gathering, a job that he had received on account of being completely unable to help with the cooking. Time had changed nothing. Raudwen had shown herself to be a wonderful cook, therefore removing any reason Haldir saw for learning the skill himself.

While the elf was doing a good job of maintaining his composure in the face of Sauron's silence – one thing time apparently was teaching him – he was clearly impatient for an answer. On some level, this left Sauron wishing to extend the waiting as long as possible.

A muted thud announced that the front door had been shut. This was followed by the gentle swish of fabric across wood and the light plodding of feet.

Raudwen turned the corner into the kitchen and smiled at Haldir, who was violently sloshing away in a tub of soapy water while attempting to clean a plate. "Ah, how well you can scrub the serving platter, my love," she smirked as the water splashed up and drenched the front of Haldir's tunic.

Haldir threw her some look over his shoulder that Sauron did not see. He did not particularly care. At the moment, his thoughts were placed elsewhere.

The little boy, Elbaras, was held in one of Raudwen's arms, his own arms draped limply over her shoulders. From the other hand clung the girl, Anariel, her mouth open in a massive yawn that she attempted to conceal behind a fist.

They were both so tiny. It was something that never ceased to baffle Sauron. Even through their forms were small and fragile, they managed to hurt themselves in a variety of ways at every turn without bringing about any life-threatening injury. Perhaps he would be able to handle it.

After all, Haldir had.

Some sort of conversation had taken place while he considered this, and now he found that the attention was focused on him. With both of them looking at him so expectantly, it was clear what the topic he had missed was.

Sighing, he reluctantly nodded his head, even though it felt like leaping knowingly into some vague doom. "I'll watch them. You had better leave good instructions, however, if you want them to still be around when you return."

Raudwen grinned before nudging Haldir with a foot. "I told you he would do it!" she said triumphantly.

"Again, I would like to remind you that you don't know him as well as I do," Haldir said under his breath as he set some of the dishes on a towel to dry.

"You always seem to think that he is some terrible person," she said, shaking her head. "What has he ever done to give you that impression?"

Sauron felt a flicker of a smile curl his lips at the expression that crossed Haldir's face. That was sufficient amusement for the moment.

Clearing his throat, Sauron – against his earlier plans – announced that he would be going and headed for the front door. "What time do you plan to leave?" he asked as an indirect way to figure out when he would be expected. Simply inquiring about when he had to be there was too much like asking for an order.

"Oh, around noon, I should expect," Raudwen replied, trying to usher the half-asleep Anariel up the stairs they passed on the way to the door. The little girl made it up the first few steps before looking back at her mother while holding out her arms pitifully. Sighing, Raudwen shifted Elbaras and scooped Anariel onto her free hip. Sauron observed the execution of this task with mild interest. It didn't look quite possible for both children to be so comfortably situated on one person.

Haldir finally appeared, brushing his hands off on his tunic. Raudwen sighed at the action and shook her head. "Do you have to do that all the time, Haldir?" she whispered.

"It's just soapy water," he returned, smiling. "Unless I've been misled, it shouldn't stain clothing."

He then gently touched Raudwen's arm and nodded to the stairs. "Go ahead and put them to bed. You can give Iaewur your spiel tomorrow."

Glancing between the two, Raudwen finally nodded. "Alright. Goodnight, Iaewur, and thank you again."

"It's no problem," replied the public façade of Iaewur, while Sauron griped moodily that it was most definitely a problem.

Somehow, Raudwen managed to get up the stairs in the dark without tripping on her dress as she carried the children. As she disappeared into the dark hallway, Haldir spoke up. "No problem," he muttered dismissively, but his glance was amused. "As though I believe that for an instant."

"What is it about that feeble mind of yours that makes it impervious to the power of my voice?" Sauron wondered, a bit irritated.

"Oh don't give me that," Haldir replied flippantly. "You can coat your words with as much sweetness as you want, but you haven't ever been very good at disguising your eyes." Moving past Sauron, Haldir opened the front door, allowing a wave of cool evening air into the house. "I wonder why that could be…" he pretended to muse while tapped his chin.

Sauron walked out of the house and down into the street. "Give it a rest," he muttered as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his tunic.

There was a faint chuckle that made Sauron's frown deeper. "Noon tomorrow, then?"

He didn't respond. Unfortunately, Sauron recognized that by now he didn't need to. They both knew that he would be there at noon. Somewhere down the line, his word had started to hold some weight.

* * *

Chapters will generally be longer than that, but this was just a very convenient place to stop. Please review my dearies, because everybody knows that makes people happy and confetti fall from the sky and birds sing. … Well, it makes people happy at least. 


	2. Let the Madness Begin

Oh boy, the Frotu sucks, no? I'm really sorry about the hugenormous delay, but with work and then school, I suddenly was like "GAH! No life!" … And I'm very serious. I do not have a life. I sacrificed it to the Academic Deities.

So I can't guarantee that updates will be entirely regular, but I will make sure that there are no more big like… three month gaps, for that is just rude. I'll attempt to get a chapter every 2-3 weeks. I'll try very very hard. Your patience is very much appreciated! Oh, and I will reply to reviewers after the next chapter. Thaaaaank you, I love you all from the bottom of my appendix!

* * *

The house was bustling around him that morning. It had steadily emptied of people over the years until it was just the three of them: Orophin, Rumil, and Sauron. On one hand, Sauron found it to be a useful arrangement. After all, it meant that he didn't have to worry about cooking for himself, even though time had inevitably wriggled a few basic skills into his head. On the other hand, however, he had to deal with the ruckus they produced. It was enough for a whole family. Perhaps two.

All in all, though, he was generally able to disregard them. This morning, as they hurried about trying to get their necessities for their trip, they chattered ceaselessly. Sauron found it a bit more difficult than it usually was to ignore this, due to fact that much of what was said was through yells from one end of the house to the other, but practice had made him quite adept at tuning out their babble and focusing on more important things.

At the moment, all 'more important' constituted was a piece of bread on the plate before him, as well as the slices of cheese lying innocently next to it.

No, Sauron did not need to organize and pack at the moment like the elves were. He was already prepared for his attempt at supervising children, at least physically. There were not many things he had need of daily, so his packing job was incredibly light. He was nowhere near as vain as the majority of the elves. True, he probably wouldn't allow himself to go out with his hair looking like it had when he had first regained a physical form, but he wasn't about to fuss with it.

So, where the elves were continuing to rush about, Sauron was quite at his leisure. The downside was that being 'at his leisure' was mostly a polite way of saying that he was waiting on them. Even the usual activity of brooding offered no distraction, as there was simply nothing he felt like brooding about. Or, perhaps more precisely, there was nothing he could brood about properly in the amount of time he supposed he had.

After ordering the blocks of cheese from largest to smallest, he sighed and got up. He was having to wait pointlessly, which was making him irritated. In turn, this knot of annoyance in his gut made the idea of eating seem quite disgusting. Rather than stay around any longer, Sauron decided that he would just make his way to Haldir and Raudwen's house without Rumil or Orophin. They would both show up eventually, and this way he would be able to get whatever important information there was before they arrived.

The walk was uneventful, although it was a bit hindered by the volume of people who were out. It was admittedly a nice day, although, then again, when wasn't it in Valinor? There was one point of interest, however – the wind had changed directions just enough that it brought down the scent of forests from the southern mountains.

Sauron dismissed this observation as he reached his destination. Noticing such trivial things was a rather aggravating habit he had been fighting for the last few handfuls of years. He was holding his own, but every year it became harder.

It seemed that the moment he raised his hand to rap on the door, it swung open to reveal a very flustered Raudwen. Raising a brow slowly, Sauron waited for the explanation he assumed would be forthcoming.

"I'm so glad that you've made it," she said happily, a false smile plastered on her face as Elbaras ran across the hall behind her wearing what looked suspiciously like…

"Is he wearing his undergarments on his head?" Sauron asked monotonously.

Without turning around, Raudwen closed her eyes, the peaceful expression belying the severity of her next words. "Elbaras, if I have to remove those myself, you will not like where they end up."

A lump of clothes suddenly landed in the middle of the hall.

Opening her eyes, Raudwen stood back, pretending as though the scene a moment ago had never occurred. "Please do come in."

Sauron did so, trying to remain unfazed. After all, he had been up against a lot worse than that little display. If the most serious of his troubles consisted of a child wishing to make their underwear outerwear, what difference did that make to him?

It seemed a bit strange that Raudwen did not shut the door behind her. The reason for this became clear when Haldir hurried around the corner a moment later, carrying two traveling bags. "Everything is ready," he said to Raudwen, nodding his head to Sauron in a tacit hello.

"And you left everything on the counter?" she prompted.

"Yes, dear. Everything he could ever need and a third of everything he never would are there."

Giving him a brief look, Raudwen took a breath and turned back to Sauron. "Once again, thank you. We truly appreciate it. I left directions to where we will be so you can find us if there is an emergency, but we should be back soon enough that it won't make much of a difference. The neighbors are both available if you need anything; that way you won't have to go to the market for supplies if something suddenly runs out… which nothing should, right Haldir?"

"Most assuredly," Haldir responded in a slightly weary tone.

"The children no longer take naps, but they must be in bed a half hour after sundown. We had a talk with them about this, because they can be wiggly around bedtime. You shouldn't have any trouble with meals, although Elbaras has been known to occasionally decide that he does not like a certain food or dish. So long as you keep them out of their bureaus, they should be fine. They have enough toys to entertain themselves. Anyway, I left some notes on the counter about dinner and things like that, so everything should be pretty self explanatory."

Sauron nodded, figuring that the children were probably aware of all this themselves, therefore making his immediate awareness of it superfluous. At the same time, though, it seemed necessary to Raudwen's peace of mind that he be directly alerted to the workings of the household.

Apparently satisfied, Raudwen called to the children, who appeared a moment later and stood patiently before her. "Behave yourselves for Iaewur, okay?" she said, dropping to a knee to look them both in the eyes.

"Yes, Mama," they chimed.

"You remember what I said would happen if he tells us that you were naughty, right?"

Perhaps it was just him, but Sauron was pretty sure that Elbaras and Anariel's eyes both widened.

"We'll be good, promise!" Anariel said seriously, nodding her head.

Raudwen smiled and kissed the girl's cheek. "I'm glad to hear it." She kissed Elbaras' cheek as well and then stood up. "We'll be back tomorrow."

"Sleep well tonight, you two," Haldir said, ruffling Elbaras' hair and grinning as they looked up at him. "Maybe I'll be able to find something to bring you guys from the trip, so long as you listen to all the rules your mother told you…"

This seemed to have given them another prerogative to act properly. They smiled hopefully, the earlier threats forgotten in the face of reward.

There was the distinct sound of chatter outside, continuously getting louder. Orophin and Rumil must have finally arrived. Raudwen was now at the door speaking with them as Haldir quickly gave each of his children a goodbye hug.

As he picked up the bags and went to the door, Haldir paused by Sauron. "You have no idea how much I appreciate this," he said quietly.

"I'll probably have an idea just how much when I finally ask for something in return," Sauron replied casually.

Smirking a bit, Haldir shifted the bags. "You would measure it that way, but you know it doesn't convert properly on that scale. I must say, however, that I'm pleasantly surprised at the fact that you agreed before asking for anything in return."

Sauron pondered this for a moment, wondering if he really had done such a thing. It would have been quite a lapse in thinking to not at least verbally work out some sort of contract of reciprocal benefits.

There was no more time to think about it, however, since Haldir had gone to join the others in the yard. The final farewells had been exchanged while Sauron had tried to recall what he had said the night before, and now the twins were waving to their parents at the doorway.

Sauron waited in the shadows of the hall, not feeling up to partaking in the whole waving business. The kids eventually stood out on the step outside the house, waving until the party must have been completely out of view. Their hands seemed to drop down simultaneously.

Similarly, they turned to look at him almost in the same moment. They stepped back into the house, Elbaras shutting the door behind them before standing next to his sister and staring up at Sauron.

It was a strangely disconcerting feeling to have the glances of two children on him. Usually, people took some care to mask their feelings or obscure their motives from their expressions, but neither child made any effort at such pretense. They were blatantly scrutinizing him. For what, Sauron had no idea, and so he decided to merely scrutinize them back. If that was the game they wanted to play, he had enough practice to participate.

This didn't seem to be any sort of deterrent, unfortunately.

"What do you want?" he finally asked, perhaps a bit gruffer than he had intended.

Anariel's head tipped slightly to the side before she turned to Elbaras. "I think you were right," she said, ignoring Sauron.

"Why don't you think Mama notices?" Elbaras questioned.

"It's probably Papa's fault."

Blinking at this exchange before pulling his face into a properly annoyed expression, Sauron folded his arms. "What are you talking about?"

"You're not like us," Anariel said simply.

"Of course I'm not like you. You're just children," he retorted, wondering how he was going to put up with them if this was how they were going to act the whole time.

"I don't mean like that. I mean that you're not like us, like elves."

Somewhere outside, a bird called.

Besides being shocked by this statement, Sauron was sure that it was not very good that they were able to tell this. How had they drawn that conclusion?

For the first time in a long while, he wasn't sure how to proceed. The last time that had happened was during that whole charade with Lalaith. _Jeez_, he thought dryly to himself, _these touchy personal things are so annoyingly tricky_. "What else would I be?" he tried, attempting to keep a lighter tone than he felt like using.

Anariel shrugged in a way that seemed to hint that, even though they had decided that he was different, this did not concern them. Both their demeanors, while curious, didn't seem at all disturbed or worried. "Something. We aren't sure exactly what, though, since we haven't figured out what makes you different."

She stepped forward and took hold of his left hand, wrapping her tiny fingers around his wrist. Sauron was too shocked by this breach of his personal space to completely register what had happened.

His hand was held up before Anariel's face, where she looked at it very seriously. "Did you fight in battles?" she now queried.

"What?" he asked distractly, trying to keep an eye on Elbaras, who had started circling around him.

"You don't have a finger. Or was it an accident?"

Suddenly, Sauron felt much too backed into a corner. He snatched his hand away. "That is none of your concern," he said severely. At the same time, he reached out and caught Elbaras by the collar of his tunic before steering him back towards his sister.

He considered the pair in an attempt to figure out the best way to deal with the situation. For whatever reason, he did not think that intimidation would work properly. Not that it wasn't an option he would put in reserve.

Sighing, Sauron sank down to their level so that he could look them both in the eyes. "I suppose I had ought to set a few rules with you in addition to the ones your parents put down."

Anariel frowned at this, but did not say anything.

"You're both… eight now, right?"

They nodded.

"Eight is old enough to have some measure of tact."

"Tact?" Elbaras asked, his face becoming serious.

Sauron couldn't remember the last time it had been necessary for him to explain something so simple. It probably was when he had tried to organize the orcs. Those things were hopeless. "For example, Anariel, grabbing my hand and telling me that I don't have a finger lacks tact. Being tactful means that you deal with delicate subjects in a manner that takes another person's probable reaction into account. Understand?"

Anariel hang her head a bit. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings," she mumbled.

"You didn't hurt my feelings," Sauron replied, stopping himself from mentioning that he was so thick-skinned about such things that it was almost impossible to bother him that way. Annoy him, yes. Hurt his feelings, not so much. "In this instance, I just meant that I like to have my own space. I don't take well to having people so close."

"Is that rule one?" Elbaras asked.

"Um… sure." Sauron released them and rested back on his heels. "My rules are grounded more on my belief that you probably can behave yourselves, if you want to. Both your mother and father have given you reasons to be this way, but it's probably safe to say that you'll have your lapses, right?"

Elbaras giggled at this, and Anariel promptly elbowed him, giving him a frown that was amusing for it's severity in contrast to her young age.

"I don't think I should have to enumerate everything to you; I'm just going to assume that you know what is acceptable, and I'll judge you accordingly. Understood?"

Both nodded slowly, as though they were actually making an attempt to absorb what he was saying. Sauron truly hoped that they were.

A mildly uncomfortable silence followed where they both stood there, a bit downcast, apparently waiting for something more from him. Sauron stood up, and after a brief pause, turned toward the kitchen. "You may go play or whatever it is you do now, if you wish," he said, figuring that it was a good enough dismissal as any.

After a second, there was the clear sound of feet on the stairs, and Sauron let out a sigh. Hopefully he wouldn't have to deal with them until dinner.

Unfortunately, such was wishful thinking.


	3. Clueless Children

Yey, not two months this time! It's amazing! ... Probably should be noted that I have a huge presentation that I should be preparing for, and thus I have the need to procrastinate as much as possible. So sad. Anyway, hopefully I'll get around to writing the next chapter in a timely fashion. Then again, that might cause the world to end.

... So enjoy. Please.

* * *

Sauron had assumed that "amuse themselves" meant that Elbaras and Anariel would be able to go to their rooms and find something to do. To him, that seemed like a perfectly acceptable expectation. This was apparently incorrect, however. He had settled down in a chair wedged into a corner, leaning into the cushions with his head back to stare at the ceiling. There was a book he had picked up the week before in his bag – something discussing the finer points of a new welding technique that had been introduced by elves recently arrived from middle earth – but at the present there had been no reason to delve into that.

No, he had more important things to consider. Now that he had learned a bit, and he did acknowledge that it was a very little bit, about the mannerisms of children, he needed to reason out the best way to proceed with the rest of the day. But, naturally, this wasn't to be, as he could hear the thumping of feet charging down the stairs.

Without looking down, Sauron figured that it was Elbaras. The bright red tuft of hair he could see in his peripheral sort of gave it away.

Slowly, he raised his head and leveled a decidedly exasperated look at the boy. "Yes?"

Elbaras took a few more steps into the room before halting, the beginnings of a smile turning the corners of his lips regardless of Sauron's less than enthusiastic air. "May we go to the park?"

Sauron processed this comment and then slowly turned to face the window to his left. Through the airy curtains stirring in the breeze, he could quite clearly see the green he had stood in the night before. It had apparently remained there and not disappeared as Elbraras' question might have suggested. "Why don't you just go then? It's right outside your door."

"That's not the park!" Elbaras cried.

"It's not."

"No! There's nothing fun to do there. The park is in the city more."

Sauron considered Elbaras critically. "And I suppose I would be expected to come along as well, hm?" he asked while pretty sure of the answer.

"Yes. But you don't have to play if you don't want to," Elbaras explained.

Sauron snorted. "Of course I don't." He looked at the clock set on the mantle and decided that he could probably spare an hour for such a thing if it would keep the kids out of his hair. "Does your sister want to go, too?"

Elbaras waved a hand "She always likes to go. I'm sure she'd want to."

"Go ask her."

With a sigh, Elbaras turned back and went upstairs, his exasperated calls for his sister reverberating through the house.

After listening for a moment, Sauron heard Anariel's assent to go on the outing. He rose, anticipating that they'd show up in a minute, and wondered vaguely what he was getting himself into by agreeing to take the rather hyperactive Elbaras where he was so excited to go.

Thankfully, once both kids were outfitted with their shoes and on their way, they behaved themselves rather well. In fact, while enthusiastic, they were rather controlled. Anariel led the way, explaining the directions as they went, while Elbaras, not quite as interested in this, capered around them in happy circles.

Sauron imagined what sort of sight they made – the two bright children bubbling happily with him frowning in the middle.

He was disrupted from his thoughts when Anariel abruptly announced that they had arrived.

This was not the calm green of the many commons frequently found around Valinor. This park was its own operation, directly made to provide the children with a place to entertain themselves. It was true that the city was a delicate-looking place full of seemingly fragile stone latticework and airy glass. Although well made and undoubtedly strong, 'strong' worked on a completely different unit of measurement in relation to children.

Strong did not exist.

Since it was universally understood that children had wealths of energy that needed to be released, it was necessary to create a place that would be able to perform this function without simultaneously incurring its complete destruction in one afternoon.

Therefore, places such as the park occasionally showed up.

Sauron, who had never had any interest in children and who could generally ignore them on account of how far they were below his line of sight, had not gone to any of these places. In fact, he had been able to completely avoid them until now; the high timbre of the voices and the general volume they usually had did not make this terribly difficult.

Now, however, he was being forced to confront it. It was considerably larger than the usual parks, although this seemed to be because of the buffer ring that encircled the main area of interest. This, located in the middle of the field, was an intricately built wooden contraption. It looked like a house, minus everything that generally marked a building as such.

It was the sort of place an insane person would build. Floors had holes in them or were uneven or placed at odd angles. There were webs of metal coming from various sides and enough rope to completely rig a ship.

While there was no discernable reason for this odd setup, the children seemed to understand it perfectly. Whether this was due to the fact that their imaginations were still unrestrained or their intellect underdeveloped, or both, Sauron could not say. He observed their actions for a moment, the wild capering and haphazard swinging and hurried climbing, trying to make sense of it, trying to categorize their actions so that it had some order.

He failed miserably.

He did not particularly appreciate it. The feeling had never really sat well with him.

Suddenly, his thoughts were yanked from his consideration by the tug of a little hand on his.

Looking down, he found Anariel snatching her hand back and quickly hiding it in the folds of her dress. She tried to look oblivious to the raised brow on Sauron's face that clearly asked if she had just broken his rule of minding his personal space. "May we go play now, Iaewur?" she asked in an overly polite voice.

Sauron frowned. That plot of endearing manners might work on her parents, but not on him. Seeing as how the point of their coming had been to let them play, however, Sauron did not see any choice but to nod stiffly.

A massive grin spread across Anariel's face, and she grabbed Elbaras' hand before rushing off to the strange building in a fit of giggles.

Sauron shook his head. He now remembered why he had never involved children in any of his schemes, no matter how subtle their participation might be.

Since he had no idea how long it would take for them to get their restlessness out of their systems, Sauron found a shady spot on the grass beneath a tree. It was strange that, while perfectly comfortable there, he could not help but feel a bit uneasy that he had no idea where those two kids were. True, he was stronger than Haldir, and his height did help, but Sauron had never liked fighting and generally tended to lose in such situations if his opponent was motivated enough. If something happened to either of the children, Sauron was sure that such would motivate Haldir to the point of effectively disembodying him again.

It was truly unfair for Haldir to put so much _trust_ in him. What had he ever done to deserve this? And why did he feel so _responsible_ about the children's well being? He wasn't supposed to have these stupid feelings. It had been enough of a jump to expressing the common simple emotions aside from the negative ones. Seeing as how he had taken that step, the world should not have demanded more from him. It was completely unfair.

Perhaps just a bit frustrated with himself, Sauron leaned back against the tree and stubbornly closed his eyes. There were plenty of adults around keeping a close watch of the children in general; if anything went awry, no doubt one of them would step in. They would surely have more knowledge on how to care for a small child than he did.

Carefully, Sauron tried to plot out what the remainder of his day would be like while consciously ignoring any shriek of yell. This actually worked surprisingly well once he was immersed in it. Everything was pushed to the back of his mind, thankfully hazy. It was rather like…

There was a sudden prickling across his scalp, and Sauron slowly opened his eyes, wondering why it was so difficult to do so. Blinking to clear his vision, Sauron's mind began to come up to speed with his surroundings.

The sun was slanting down through the trees above him, chasing the shadows back up to his knees.

He had fallen asleep.

That had been unexpected.

Looking to his side, Sauron found Anariel smiling at him. It seemed rather portentous. "What are you up to?" he asked warily.

"I made you a necklace," she said proudly.

He raised a brow. "A necklace?" What was there to make a necklace of… and, better yet, who would make a necklace for _him_?

She pointed to his chest, and Sauron now saw the string of linked flowers that had been lowered over his head. A distant part of his mind that was clearly more awake than the rest twitched uncomfortably – angrily, even – at this absurd decoration. Heedless of what general consensus the rest of his mind came to, that small portion raised his hand and lifted the flowers lying across his chest, prepared to take them off.

At that moment, Anariel sat down in the grass, legs stuck out at the odd angles only children could accomplish, and tipped her head up at him. "Do you like it?" she asked.

Sauron paused, glancing at her. Like it? Flowers, woven into a necklace no less? How was he supposed to _like_ that? What had he ever done to come across as somebody who would appreciate it?

But… her brows were drawn up in a disgustingly pitiful manner, betraying how much she hoped he would. She'd probably cry or sulk or something if he told her what he really thought.

"I tried to make sure they were all the same length," she added as though trying to prove the flower chain worthy of his praise. "I had to look through all the grass over there." Her hand waved vaguely toward the other side of the green. "I didn't even get help!"

The little angry part of his consciousness was carefully pushed into the background. It did not require much to do so once Sauron made up his mind; over the millennia, he had often had to carefully keep that side from manifesting itself while he tried to accomplish his various acts of subterfuge. This case would no doubt have to be the same.

Slowly, he released the flowers, allowing them once again to drape around his neck. "They are very nice" he finally managed to form.

_And lavender_, his mind added grouchily, _a _very_ ominous lavender_.

Anariel absolutely beamed. She giggled, clapping her hands together. "I'll go make you more!" she exclaimed while jumping up.

With a flare of panic, Sauron managed to catch her arm before she ran off. "That isn't necessary!" he said hastily. "Why don't you just make some for yourself? Or go play with Elbaras some more?"

"I don't know where he is, though," she murmured.

"Well, there you go. It can be your job to find him. I suppose it's getting near the time for you to have dinner, right?"

She nodded, and Sauron released her arm. "Good. I'll be waiting for you here."

By then, she was already on her way back, so she merely waved at him.

Sighing, Sauron went back to looking at the flower chain. It was obvious that she had spent a good deal of time on it; the stems were, indeed, pretty close to the same length, and the flowers were nearly at the same stage of blooming. While he appreciated a job done carefully, Sauron could not understand spending so much time on something that would only last a few hours after completion. It hardly seemed worth the effort.

Especially if it was going to be wasted on him.

With another sigh, a bit irritated this time, Sauron thought of what Morgoth would say about this. While Morgoth did like beautiful things – the silmarils were the most obvious example – it was usually because he wanted to stain them… leave his own personal mark upon their existence, as it were.

Unfortunately, the situation made some old recollection pull itself from the others and dust itself off a bit. It made him remember the first time he had been told that he should not spend his time on things that were as trivial and useless as decoration.

"_Sauron," Morgoth said exasperatedly, clearly on the edge of pinching the bridge of his nose, "what is this?"_

_Sauron looked down at the armor, gauntlets or something like that, and then back at Morgoth. "Armor…?"_

"_Yes, I do know that. What I don't understand is why it looks like that."_

"_Like what?"_

"_Like something elves would make!" Morgoth boomed._

_Flinching at the volume but still completely baffled, Sauron tried to put his thoughts together. "I just made them the way I was taught."_

"_Then unteach yourself!"_

_Sauron paused and wondered if he dare correct Morgoth's grammar. He decided that he most certainly did not. "What part is it that you take particular offense to, my lord?"_

_Morgoth snatched the armor from him and jabbed a dark finger at the plates in general. "Designs. Embellishments. Unnecessary," he grit out, each word punctuated with a jab._

"_You want them to be plain…" Sauron ventured, feeling much more timid than he would have liked._

"_No. I just want them to relate to what I do. It is dark, it is corrupt, it is blasphemous to what _they_ would do. There is no need for things of beauty to be made in this world. Understood?"_

Sauron had nodded and trudged back to the forges. It had been a lie, however – he had not understood.

He had learned.

Shaking away the memories that were buried so deeply under years and years, Sauron smiled wryly. Yes, it had taken him a while to break the habits he had gained under Aule's tutelage, but he was an incredibly fast learner. It had become natural to ignore the intricacies he would have generally included.

Now, of course – since that was just the sort of luck he had – he was being forced to recall these things. It was like being told that not everything needed a purpose after having the doctrine that it did pounded in his head for ages.

He glanced at the flowers and tried to accept them for what they were.

Suddenly, he was able to make out the shapes of Anariel and Elbaras dislodging themselves from the general throng. Seeing as how they would be over in a minute of so, Sauron rose and wiped the grass from his tunic and leggings.

Unfortunately, this attempt at tidiness was soon followed by a clump of grass hitting him in the chest.

For a moment, he simply stared at it, watching as it fell off, leaving behind a dozen off little grass blades on his tunic. It even took a second for him to register the giggling of Elbaras and the shocked chastising of Anariel.

Once he got his mind around the idea of a child senselessly attacking him for amusement, Sauron looked up from his tunic to Elbaras. Slowly, he raised a hand and flicked the grass off, and, with equal slowness, he spoke. "Little child," he stated evenly, noting that Elbaras, who looked far from remorseful, actually seemed to find his grim tone humorous, "what possessed you to do that?"

Elbaras just let out another string of giggles before throwing the other handful, which had been hidden behind his back.

Anariel gasped and then shoved his shoulder. "Stop! You don't want him to be mad! Then mama and papa will not be happy!"

This didn't seem to have any effect either, however, and he began to hop from one foot to the other. "You'll have to catch me! Catch me! Catch me!" he chanted, before darting off back towards the other children.

Apparently, whatever length of time they had been there had not been enough to alleviate Elbaras' energy.

Sighing at how undignified it was, Sauron ran after the little boy. Thankfully, since his legs were significantly longer, he was easily able to catch up. Leaning out quickly, Sauron picked the boy up under the arms, holding him out and observing with perhaps a twitch of amusement that Elbaras' legs continued to struggle forward.

"There will be no more of _that_," Sauron said seriously.

Still squirming, Elbaras tried to look back over his shoulder at Sauron. "But papa always plays with us!"

"I, however, am not you papa."

Elbaras instantly went slack, his curly-haired head drooping. "I know," he murmured, apparently into the fabric of his tunic. "I just thought that you would play as well…"

Sauron shook his head and set Elbaras back down on his feet. "Don't assume. Now come on; we're going home."

He turned around and started back towards the house, picking up on the faint rustle of feet on the grass behind him. That was enough of an indication that the children were following to assure him that there was no reason to ruin his dramatic effect by turning around.


End file.
